


Rantha (Minotaur)

by TheTravelerWrites



Series: Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandonment, Congenital Myopathy, Exophilia, F/M, Focal Muscular Myopathy, Human/Minotaur - Freeform, Human/Monster Romance, Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy, Minotaur - Freeform, Minotaur Boyfriend, Monster Boyfriend, Muscular dystrophy, Physical Disability, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Teratophilia, human/monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-03 12:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTravelerWrites/pseuds/TheTravelerWrites
Summary: A young disabled woman is abandoned at a cabin in the middle of the forest with no way to take care of herself, until a mysterious benefactor begins leaving her food and supplies while she sleeps.





	1. Chapter 1

Your mother was taking you to a cabin for, she said, some fresh air. She had bought it for next to nothing and spent weeks going on about how good it would be for the two of you to get away for a while. You were excited, too. You’d only ever lived in the city, and to be honest, you hated it there.

You were born healthy, but as you aged, your right arm began to wither. Every healer in the city had been consulted, but no one could tell your parents what was wrong with you. By the time you were ten, the arm was completely immobile and permanently curled up against your side, skeletal and gnarled.

You knew they resented you. At first, you didn’t realize it, because you were a child and it happened gradually. But as their friend’s children grew up and got married or started apprenticeships, only for you to remain uselessly at home, you could see it on their faces. They knew they’d have to take care of you forever, and they loathed the idea.

You spent all your time reading because no one trusted you to do anything else. You insisted you could still do basic chores, like sweeping floors and dusting, but they heard none of it. It was confusing to you; you were asking to help, and they were refusing to let you. It wasn’t your fault you were growing weaker and more infirm since they never let you leave your bed.

You read all your books a hundred times, played all your card games, cleaned up after yourself until there was not a speck of dust in your room, but nothing could dispel the crushing boredom and madness of being alone all day.

A lot of the time, you lay in your bed and stared at the ceiling, dreaming of a life you could have had if your body hadn’t betrayed you. You could be married by now. You could have a wonderful job as an artist’s assistant or a alchemist. You could have children, or not. You could have had a choice. There was no choice now. You were what you were, and nothing would change it.

That was why this getaway sounded so amazing. You and your mother would spend a few months living in the fresh air in the country. It would be so freeing. You could go outside! You could feel grass beneath your toes. You could try and take a run for the first time. You found yourself daydreaming about how lovely it would be.

You were going to pack up your things, but your mother insisted the cabin would be fully furnished, including clothes; all you would need was a single change to wear on the trip up. You took a small bag of books and a few of your treasures anyway.

Mother had hired a carriage to take you both, a fast, bumpy thing with an impatient groom. Your mother had told you to wear your cloak to hide your arm until you had gotten out of the city, despite it being high summer and extremely hot, but you complied. You didn’t want people looking at you, either.

The journey was several days ride by carriage, and you slept most of the way, stopping only to sleep at various inns along the way. Your mother insisted you wear the cloak at all times despite the heat, and though you felt a little resentful, you complied.

On the fifth day, you were dozing in the carriage when you heard your mother call out to you.

“Wake up,” she said. “We’re here.”

You opened your sleep-glued eyes to find yourself staring at a vast expanse of forest. As you stepped out, you saw a small shack in the middle of a tiny clearing. It wasn’t exactly the luxurious cabin your mother had described, but it was well-built and charming and you were determined not to judge it too harshly.

You stepped down and followed your mother toward the shack, looking back at the carriage and expecting it to leave, except it stayed where it was with the groom tapping his foot sharply. The ground underneath the horse and carriage was all grass; you weren’t even near a road of any kind.

Your mother unlocked the door to the shack and it swung open, and you peered inside. It was sparsely furnished with a bed, a table, and a single chair, all plainly made and well worn. There was a table with a water basin and an iron stove with a neat stack of firewood sitting next to it. It was a little drab but cozy, and you thought all it needed was a few personal touches to make it feel like home.

“What do you think, my dear?” Your mother asked, watching you look around the shack.

“It’s nice,” you replied. “A little small, but I think we can make do.” You smiled at her, and her returning smile was strained.

“I’m going to go into the nearest town and buy supplies,” Your mother said. “Why don’t you stay here and start getting this place livable?”

You smiled brightly. “I will!”

Your mother smiled again, gave you a quick hug, and left the key on the table before striding out of the door and stepping back into the carriage. The groom snapped the reins and the horse jumped into action, pulling the carriage away.

You spent the next few hours doing what you could to tidy up. One handed, you managed to remove and shake out the bedclothes and remake the bed, which seemed a bit narrow for both you and your mother to share. The larder was a bit sparse, with only a bag of dried beans and a turnip or two, but your mother would bring back food. Oddly, your mother had insisted that there would be clothing waiting for you here, but you found none. There wasn’t even a closet or a dresser in which to keep clothes.

After you had done what you could do comfortably to make the shack presentable, you went out onto the small porch to wait for your mother to return.

Hours passed. The sun began to dip behind the trees and the air, while still warm, dropped in temperature. You began to worry about your mother’s well-being. Perhaps that groom was a nefarious highwayman who’d brought harm to your mother. You were twitching with nervousness.

You were being paranoid. She might have just gotten held up. You decided to go to bed. She’d be there in the morning, you assured yourself.

She had not returned by morning. It took another two days of waiting for you to realize she wasn’t coming back.

She’d left you there to die.

You sat on the steps and cried, knowing that your family had finally washed their hands of you. It wouldn’t be so bad if they had taught you even the basics for taking care of yourself, but they had always made you stay abed, never allowed to interfere with the workings of the house. You wept bitter tears at their betrayal. What had you done wrong besides living in a broken body? Was that all it took to condemn someone to death?

You were running out of water and you were scared to leave the hut, afraid you’d get lost and never find your way back. It was your only shelter. You rummaged around until you found a flint and stone buried in a toolbox, so you were at least able to built a fire in the stove and cook a handful of beans each day to keep yourself fed, but those, too, would run out soon. You had no skill for living on your own, let alone living off an unfamiliar land with no one to help you. You truly were going to die.

A week on, just before twilight, you sat on the steps, having eaten your daily rations of beans and taking the last swallow of water, and you broke down again.

“Why?” You sobbed into the empty air of the forest. “Why did they do this to me? Was I such an imposition? Did _this_ ,” You gestured violently at your useless arm. “Make me unlovable? Have I no value at all? Surely I could have been taught. I could have learned. Was that too much trouble?”

You thought you heard something, a deep lowing, answer you far in the distance, but you convinced yourself that it was merely the wind. Sniffling, you went inside and lay down in the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

The next morning, you went out with a bucket in your hand, determined to find some water. It took about an hour, but to your surprise, you found a hidden well under a trapdoor in the ground near a rock just out of side of the cabin. It was camouflaged with overgrown vines and moss. If you hadn’t tripped over it, you might never have found it.

Now the dilemma of getting the water up. This was definitely a two handed job. You went back to the cabin and found a length of rope hidden in a basket under the bed, managing to tie a knot on the bucket handle, though it took nearly thirty minutes to do so. You had to be careful about this; this was your only bucket and rope. If you lost either of them, you were screwed.

Praying the knot didn’t come undone, you dropped the bucket into the well and was relieved to hear a splash. Then you began pulling it up, carefully gripping the rope between your knees every time you tugged up the bucket. It was grueling work for you, who had little muscle tone and no experience with any sort of manual labor, but you did it.

Well, you had water. That was one thing in your favor, but you were still running out of food and had no way of finding more. Anxiety about how much you had left ate at your mind, making the skin of your back crawl.

“Don’t panic,” You told yourself out loud. “Don’t panic. You’ll find food. You found water, you’ll find food. You can do this.”

You fired up the stove and threw the last handful of beans and final chunk of turnip into a pot of water and waited for them to cook. Tomorrow you’d have to find something or you were going to starve for sure.

The next morning dawned, and you were awakened by a knock at the door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you got up, hope that your mother had returned for you welling up in your chest, and you threw the door open to find no one there.

Confused, you looked down at the steps at your feet and blinked. There lay two largish rabbits and a basket of potatoes.

“Wha…” You gaped at this sudden gift from no one and looked around you, trying to find the generous soul who’d left them. The forest was empty.

“Uh… thank you,” you called. No one answered.

Now you had to figure out how to skin rabbits one-handed. Well, no sense in dallying. You went inside to retrieve the only knife you had and set about trying to free the meat from the fur. It took some doing, and eventually you ended up washing your feet and using them to hold the animals steady so you could strip them. You were a bloody mess halfway through, and the porch wasn’t looking too pretty either, but you were doing it.

A few hours of trial and error later, you had done it, and now needed to find a sharp stick to spear them on. There was a metal rod in the back of the hut and you stuck the meat onto it, deciding to build a cooking fire outside. You took the flint and wedged it between your toes, striking the stone against it into some dried leaves for kindling. Then you brought out the firewood out, one log at a time, and built up the coals, placing two of the potatoes in the iron pot whole and sticking the pot in the embers at the edge of the fire to allow them to roast.

You almost laughed with giddy relief as you sat there on the ground, watching your gifts cook in the fire. You fully expected to go hungry today. There were some potatoes left in the basket, so you were going to have to ration them and the meat to last as long as possible, though the urge to wolf it all down at once was strong.

A tear dripped down your face as you ate your slightly burnt rabbit meat. You wished the kind person hadn’t run off so quickly. You wanted to thank them. You wiped your face and stood, cleaning up the gory remains of the rabbit and looking for something to store the rations in.  

The next morning, another knock on the door woke you. You shot out of the bed and unbolted door, hoping to catch whoever was there, but they were already gone. This morning, they had left you a cured ham steak, some corn cobs, and two apples.

A smile spread across your face and you laughed, a little of your anxiousness ebbing away, but at the same time, you tried not to take the stranger’s generosity for granted. If your family was any indication, people could decide they didn’t want to deal with you anymore and throw you away with no warning.

Well, all wasn’t lost, then. You decided to straighten up the hut and make it nice after breakfast. You went out to the forest not far from the house and began to pick wildflowers. You were feeling more at ease than you ever had, as fleeting as you knew it would be.

You spent the rest of the day airing out the hut, placing the flowers here and there, using water you’d pulled up from the well to wash the bed linens and the curtains, laying them on the railing to dry. It wasn’t too warm, so you sat on the porch and read from your favorite book for a while. If you were going to be living here, it was best if you started trying to make it feel like home.

It went on this way for weeks, with a charitable offering laid on the steps of the porch for you every morning and no one there to receive your thanks. Their selfless benevolence baffled you and left you emotional, especially in contrast to your family’s begrudging tolerance of you.

Once, you had even ripped your dress rather badly on a jutting nail and, after crying over it and wondering what you could possibly do to fix it since you had no needle or thread, you had left it on the railing of the cabin overnight to deal with it in the morning. Only to find it mended perfectly when you rose from sleep the next day. There was also a new pale green dress waiting for you, as well as a plucked pheasant and a large bushel of beans.

There had to be something you could do for your mysterious benefactor, some way you could repay them. The only thing you had that was of any worldly value were your emerald earrings, a gift from your grandmother before she died. One evening, after more than a month of this big-hearted caretaker looking after you, you took them from your ears and laid them on the steps of the porch, hoping they were watching.

“I want to repay your for all your kindness to me,” You said to the empty evening air. “These are all I have, but I hope that they’re worth something. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” Then you went inside and prepared for bed.

The next morning, when you woke up, you immediately went outside to check if your caretaker had accepted your payment. Shocked, you saw that not only were your earrings still there, they were now joined by a pendant on a silver chain that complimented them perfectly.

This had been weird before, but now it was on an entirely new level. This wasn’t food or clothing or mere survival. They were leaving you real gifts now, trinkets of worth that served no purpose out here, because… why?

Enough was enough. You needed to know who this person was. You needed to be able to thank them face-to-face, at the very least. You took up the earrings and the pendant, then walked back into the house. You lay the jewelry on the table and found your knife, slitting the skirt of your dress to the hip where it had split before. You pulled it off and threw it aside, pulling on the new linen dress that your caretaker had left for you that’d you’d yet to wear. It was wonderfully soft, light, and comfortable.

After waiting a good amount of time, you took the dress you had torn out to the porch and laid it over the railing, sighing dramatically. You were overacting a bit, but you hoped they could see you. You’d just have to wait and find out.

That night, you waited anxiously for the sun to go down so that you could dowse the lights and wait out your caretaker. You sat with your back to the door and listened hard. If felt like you waited for hours, but eventually you heard a soft, careful _thump_ as someone or something stepped up onto the porch in a way that told you they were trying very hard not to make any noise. There was a _fwip_ as the dress was snatched off of the railing, and muffled _thump_ as the person stepped down from the porch and back on the ground.

You scrambled to your feet and waited a minute before trying to look out. Pausing for a moment to put on the pendant, you carefully opened the door so that it wouldn’t squeak and saw a large, black mass escaping into the woods. Just as their large form disappeared behind the trees, you silently slipped out of the cabin, leaving the door open, and followed.

Looking around the first tree you reached, you saw the black shape moving steadily west. It was fast on its feet and you followed as quickly and as quietly as you were able. It was far ahead of you, and you were beginning to lose sight of it, but after a few minutes of moving straight, you saw light that you guessed was from a fire and approached it cautiously.

You crept carefully through the underbrush, trying your best not to make a sound, as you heard the crackling of the fire grow louder. You reached the edge of the circle of light, and looked around a tree that was large enough to hide you. You had to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from gasping.

It was a camp with a large canvas tent set up between two trees and a few wooden crates containing food and tools. There was a bow and quiver propped against the tree on the far side, and a spear and short sword hung on a rack. Everything looked completely normal, except for the person who occupied the campsite. There, sitting on an upturned log in front of the fire, was a gigantic minotaur.

His horns were long and flared, and black fur crowned his head and adorned his neck, fading as it went down his torso, though the skin was as black as his fur. Whether he had fur on his legs, you weren’t sure, as he was wearing a sturdy pair of trousers, though you could see hooves at the end of his legs, which were as big as serving trays and just as black as the rest of him. The only thing that wasn’t black were his eyes, they were as deep a green as the forest around him.  

He had your dress in his hand, inspecting the tear closely, and in the other he held a tiny needle, already threaded, and seemed ready to set about mending the dress himself. You watched him begin to stitch your dress back together, carefully pulling the needle through with his tongue caught between his teeth, concentrating hard on his task.

You felt like you had forgotten how to breathe. You’d never seen anything like him. Granted, you’d spent most of your life in your bed, but seeing this huge creature, with his raw, colossal strength, bent over a dress as he meticulously repaired it, was something straight out of a fairy tale.

You watched him stitch in silence for a good while, completely captivated. As he tied the thread off and bit it, you stepped out from your hiding place and walked slowly toward him.

He didn’t notice you immediately, but when a twig snapped under your feet, he jumped to his with a surprised bellow. He backed away, trying to flee.

“Please, wait!” You cried, reaching out with your good arm. He halted, but stared at you, wide-eyed and apprehensive.

Slowly so as not to spook him, you walked up and stopped in front of him, looking up. He was breathing hard, as if afraid. How absurd that someone like him could be afraid of you. You looked at his face, his chest, his arms, his hands, one of which still clutched your dress. You looked around the campsite and saw crates of the same vegetables that had shown up on your doorstep. You saw furs from the meat you had been given on drying racks. There was no doubt that this man had been the one who had been looking after you, asking for nothing in return.

You rushed forward, letting out your breath, reaching out with your good arm and wrapping it around his waist. You held him as close to you as you could, weeping into the fur of his chest.

“ _Thank you,_ ” You sobbed. “Thank you so much. I thought I was going to die. You save me. Thank you. I owe you my life.”

He dropped the dress and threw his arms around your shoulders, holding you to him. “I couldn’t just let you starve,” He said, his voice like stones tumbling inside a spinning barrel.

You wept hysterically for quite a long time, and he simply held you, stroking your hair and patting your back. After a while, you sniffed to a stop and he released you. He kicked up another log to the fire and sat you down on it, sitting beside you.

“I’ve been wanting to introduce myself for a while,” He admitted, taking your good hand in his. “My name is Rantha.”

You told him your name, and he repeated it.

“How is it you’re out here all alone?” He asked.

You told him your story, about how your arm suddenly stopped working and gradually withered away, how your parents hated taking care of you and made you stay in bed all the time, how your mother had told you that you’d be coming to the cabin to get away from the stress of the city life, and how she had left you behind with no intention of returning.

“What a sad tale,” Rantha said, still holding your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Your family is full of monsters.”

“I was… burdensome,” You said regretfully. “I don’t blame them for resenting me, but I never thought they’d actually abandon me.”

“They’re monsters,” He repeated sternly. “You are their family. How could they do something so cruel to their own child?”

“Taking care of me was hard for them. I’m not good for much,” You said, shrugging your useless arm. “I can’t contribute or work like this. They’ve been pouring resources into me for years and getting nothing back.”

“Nothing except your love and trust, you mean?” He replied flatly. “Anyway, taking care of you is not hard. I’ve been doing it for weeks now, and it’s been no trouble at all.”

You blushed and looked away shyly.

“Your value is not derived from how useful you are to other people,” He said seriously. “You deserve to be happy and loved regardless of what you can do for the rest of the world. What have they done for you, anyway? You don’t owe anyone anything, and especially if they have no concern for your well-being. Besides, you can do plenty. I’ve seen you do all sorts of things on your own.”

“Because I had to, I didn’t have a choice,” You argued.

“What difference does that make? We all have to do things because we don’t have a choice.”

“Still, if it weren’t for you, I’d have starved weeks ago.” You fixed him with a shrewd stare. “Why did you start taking care of me in the first place? Why did you come to the cabin at all?”

He chuckled. “It’s my cabin. I built it. I went traveling to sell some furs and someone seems to have sold the cabin out from under me while I was away.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry!”

He shook his head and laughed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I will admit I was startled to find that a young woman had taken up residence in my house, but once I realized someone had cruelly left you to fend for yourself, I couldn’t just throw you out. But I was also hesitant to reveal myself. You were already frightened. I did not wish to frighten you further.”

“Still, I feel bad for forcing you to live out here while I just took over your home.”

He squeezed your hand with his. “I don’t mind.” He reached out his other hand to caress your face, and you surprised yourself by leaned into it. “I hadn’t intended to start a courtship ritual. It just sort of… happened… because I couldn’t let you starve. And then, once I saw how determined and resourceful you were in spite of all the adversity you faced, how could I not fall in love?”

Your jaw dropped and you picked your head up from his large palm. “ _Love…_ ” you gasped. “You were… courting me?”

“Not at first,” He said ruefully. “It was compassion that compelled me to help you when I first saw you weeping on the steps. It just kind of… turned into a courtship over time.”

“You meant what you said? You actually… love _me_?”

“Is that so shocking?” He asked, a playful laugh in his voice.

“It’s just that… I’m like _this…_ ” You shrugged your arm again. “And you’re so…”

“Big and strange?” He asked, chuckling.

“Beautiful,” You replied, avoiding his eye.

He was quiet, and you looked up to see him staring down at you, his mouth open.

“You think I’m beautiful?” He asked.

You nodded, placing your hand in the fur of his chest and carding it upward toward his neck, making him shiver. “And a little strange, too, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“I can’t believe you’re not afraid of me,” He said, nuzzling your shoulder as if to test if you were being truthful.

You leaned into him and pressed your face into his fur. “Trust me, I’m having trouble believing that myself. But I’m not. You rescued me. How could I be scared of you?”

“I didn’t rescue you,” He said softly, his arms around you again. “I only dropped off dinner every day. I just was the delivery boy. You did everything else on your own. You’re so much stronger than you think you are.”

“I’m not,” You said, shaking your head and pulling away. “I’ve never been strong in my entire life. If I was, I wouldn’t have been such a burden to my family.”

“You are not a burden,” He insisted. “It’s not your fault you think that about yourself; you’re family has been lying to you your whole life.”

“I wish I could believe that,” you said sadly.

He rubbed a hand down your back. “Maybe one day you will.”

You looked at the crates of food settled around the campsite. There was a significant amount. “Where did you get all this food in the middle of the forest? I don’t see a cart anywhere.”

“There’s a farm nearby that a friend of mine owns,” He explained. “Him and his family are very kind people. I trade with them all the time. It’s where I got the dress.” He motioned at her attire.

“The necklace, too?” You asked, patting it.

His eyes softened when he looked at the pendant around your neck. “No, that was my mother’s.”

Your heart thumped in your chest and you stared at him with wide eyes. “You gave me your mother’s necklace?”

He winced. “Is that too forward? You didn’t know you were being courted, after all.”

“You’re serious,” You whispered. “You really want to be with me.”

“Yes,” He said matter-of-factly. “I do.”

You hated that you were such an easy crier. “Well, one thing’s for sure,” you said, sniffling.

“What’s that?” He asked in concern.

You chuckled. “You’re going to need to build a bigger bed. That one in the cabin won’t hold both of us unless I was lying on top of you.”

He looked startled, and then grinned wickedly. “I wouldn’t mind that one bit,” he replied, kissing your cheek. You turned your head and caught his lips with your own, and he returned the kiss enthusiastically. You ran your fingernails through the soft fur of his face, pulling with and against the grain, as his hands roamed your back.

“I guess we should start hauling all of this home,” You said, laying your head against his chest.

“Tonight?” He asked.

“Why not tonight?” You asked, looking up at him.

His eyes twinkled mischievously. “It’s rather late. I was thinking we could spend a night under the stars together,” He replied. “Perhaps… consummate the union.”

“You’re assuming much, aren’t you?” You said playfully.

“How much?” He asked with a grin.

You answered with a grin of your own. “Not that much. But I did leave the cabin door open.”

“Hmm,” He hummed, standing. “You wait here. I’ll take care of it.” He bent to kiss you, lingering for several seconds, gently scrapping his teeth over your bottom lip, making you moan. “You’ll be here when I get back, eh?”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” you assured him.


	2. Chapter 2

Rantha returned within minutes, carrying the blankets and pillow that had once been on the bed in the cabin and laying it in the tent.

“Just to make sure your as comfortable as possible,” He said, taking his seat next to you. “Are you hungry? I have some honey cakes that I was going to leave with your dress for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

You couldn’t stop a soft smile from spreading across your face. “That sounds wonderful,” you replied.

He reached into a dainty little box nearby. “My friend’s new daughter-in-law, Caeli, is an excellent baker. When I traded for the dress, she insisted I take these for you, free of charge. I should take you to meet them sometime. They’d love you.” He held one out one of the cakes for you to take. “I’m sorry I don’t have any plates or forks with me.”

“I don’t mind getting a bit messy,” You said, taking the one he offered.

“I noticed that about you,” he replied suggestively, and you blushed.

You did, indeed, get a bit sticky. When you were done, he dipped a cloth in his wash bucket and washed your hand, chuckling at you while he massaged the skin and muscles. His focus and gentle grip, as well as his general closeness to you, was doing some interesting things to your body.

He raised the cloth to pat your mouth, but stopped, staring.

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked.

“Yes,” He breathed, then leaned in to lick the honey and crumbs from your cheek and lips. Your eyes closed involuntarily as his tongue drew a path down your neck, completing the trail with open mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

You had always believed no one would ever want to touch you like this, so when his hands moved lower, you found yourself unable to think properly. You leaned into his touch, gasping, as he drew his fingers down your breasts, past your waist, over your hips, to the hem of your dress. It was a simple cut with no fastenings or buttons, so he only had to lift it clear of your withered arm to free you from it.

You instinctively pulled your arm away, trying to hide it behind you, but he gently took it in his hands and massaged it in his large, black fingers, turning it this way and that, examining it.

“Does it hurt sometimes?” He asked.

“Yes,” You admitted. “It aches and itches.”

“I have a salve that might help,” He said, pressing his lips to the wrist.

You shivered as the kisses went up your arm and back down your chest, taking your small clothes as he went.

“You have something for everything, don’t you?” you said as he stood you up, bare and shaking, in front of him.

“I’d like to think so,” He said with a sly smile, leading you to the tent. It was large, big enough that he could stand comfortably in it, even with his horns. He had made a warm, inviting nest with your blankets and pillow as well as the furs that must have made up his bed.

As you watched, he unhooked his belt buckle and let his trousers fall away, revealing himself to you. You tried not to stare, but it was difficult. His organ was every bit as black as the rest of him, as if his entire body was carved from onyx stone. It was big, even half sheathed as he was, though you were expecting it to be considering his size. The head was flat and had a little pink spot at the tip, which seemed to be the only other bit of color on his whole body.

“Rantha…” You said, pressing your hand and forehead to his chest. “I’ve not… I’ve never…”

“It’s all right,” He whispered into your ear, his warm arms around your body, softly tracing patterns in your skin. “I’ll be so gentle. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

You hand drifted down his chest and his stomach, and when your palm reached his length, you gently caressed it, touching it with curiosity. You pull back to look down as you did this, watching as he grew rigid and slipped farther out of the sheath into your grip. He grunted and sighed and his thighs trembled at your touch, but he stayed upright and allowed you to do as you pleased, keeping his hands to himself and letting you explore him without interruption.

He had removed all but the pendant around your neck, and as you touched and stroked him, he reached out to lay a hand on it where it lay between your breasts.

“My father gave this necklace to my mother when they were married,” He huffed. “I was an acknowledgement to others that they were mated, like you humans do with rings. I understand that it’s not the same for you, but it felt appropriate to give it to you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be the same?” You asked him, pausing.

“You didn’t know you were being courted,” He said a little abashedly. “Perhaps I should have waited until my motives were clear, but when you left the earrings on the porch, I was worried you didn’t want me to come around anymore. I didn’t know what else to do to gain your favor, so I left the necklace.”

“So, wait, I’m confused,” You said, squinting up at him playfully. “Do you want me to be your mate or your wife?”

His mouth fell open, and it took him a moment to close it again. “…both? If that’s acceptable?”

You pretended to think about it for a minute, looking him up and down with your brow furrowed as if in thought, leaving him looking anxious. Anxious and naked.

“Sounds perfectly acceptable to me,” you told him, smirking. “I’d love to be both.”

Rantha sighed sharply in relief. “You little…! Don’t worry me like that!”

He snatched you up from the ground, making you shriek and giggle, and lay you down in the nest of furs and blankets, covering your body with his own. He set to work peppering your skin in kisses, gripping your sides as he went farther down, lingering on your breasts and nipples, sending shocks throughout your body. You writhed underneath him involuntarily and your legs spread themselves quite on their own to allow him to kneel between them.

He paused in his adoration of your body and sat back, laying a gentle hand on your stomach.

“You’re shaking,” he said, looking at you with concern.

“I’m nervous,” you said, realizing how visible your trembling was when you met his gaze.

He came back up and lay next to you, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you lay facing each other.

“We can wait, if you’d like,” He whispered into your hair, rubbing your body with his warm hands. “We did just meet officially, after all. I didn’t mean to pressure you by assuming.”

“No, I want to,” you assured him. “I want to be with you.” You snugged into his fur, and he tightened his grip. “I’m just… nervous. It’s no bad thing to be nervous about something you haven’t done before.”

“True,” He agreed with a smile. “We’ll start slow, all right? When you’re ready.”

You nodded. “Kiss me?”

“More than happy to,” He said with a grin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You kissed slowly for a while, savoring the warmth and closeness and tenderness he showed you. No one had ever been tender to you. Again, it brought tears to your eyes, but you willed yourself to keep them from falling.

“You can touch me,” you murmured against his lips. You felt him smile and his hands moved you so that you were laying on your back. He traced a large finger around your earlobe, down your jaw, across your collarbone, and moved to cup his full hand around your breast, massaging it up and down, gently pinching and rolling your nipple in a way that made you sign and tense.

He spent a minute doing this to the right breast before moving to the right, bending to kiss your shoulder and neck as he did so. Your working hand gripped the hair of his head. You could feel the wetness of your center begin to drip down your skin into a tiny pool under your.

His hand worked a slow path downward until he reached the mons. He played with the hair there, teasing it without pulling. He was _so close_ to where you ached that you actually whimpered.

“Pull your knees up, love,” He instructed. You obeyed, bringing your knees up and apart, and he slowly reached his hand between your legs and drew a single finger up the slit between the fleshy lips from bottom to top, making sure you could see him do it. You gasped at the sensation. He pulled his hand back and showed you the wet finger, pressing it to your tongue. It was salty and a little acidic.

“What does that mean?” You asked him. You had never even touched yourself before, let alone tasted yourself.

“You’re almost ready,” He said.

“Almost?” You echoed.

He nodded. “We want to make sure you’re as ready as possible, or it could be rather painful. It might be painful either way. You’re awfully tiny.”

“I’m not scared,” You told him.

He gave you a fond side smile. “I know. My sweet, brave girl.”

His hand went back to your core, stroking slowly, building up a burning need inside you. Just as you were about to beg him to take you, he slipped a large finger inside, and you cried out. He crooked it and rubbed it back and forth from the inside, like he was using his finger to pet a tiny animal. With his thumb, he touched the bundle of nerves under the mons, and you had to grip his upper arm to stop yourself from twitching.

He continued to work you slowly. The muscles in your stomach contracted spastically as a second finger joined the first, and a wave of something was beginning to build. He bent down to take your whole breast into his mouth and suck as the third finger slipped inside. At this point you were just moaning over and over, unable to speak.

“Almost,” He said, and the fourth finger went in.

An explosion went off inside your head and you screamed his name into the fur of his neck. Your whole body went rigid and you trapped his hand with your thighs, rolling your hips against it.

You very nearly passed out. When you came to, he was kissing your face.

“All right?” He asked.

“Mmm…” Was all you could manage.

“Have you never touched yourself before?” he asked. “The barrier is intact.”

You shook your head. “I never… felt the urge to do so.”

“I see,” he said. “No matter. Perhaps I can teach you later.”

He got up on his knees and positioned himself between yours, leaning over you. His organ was still rock hard and lay on your stomach as he braced himself of his arms to look at your face.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He used the hand that had been inside you, which was still dripping with your wetness, to slick himself down before inching closer and aiming his member at your swollen lips. You felt a pinprick of fear as he began to press inside you, feeling his girth stretching you open. You held your breath, closing your eyes and opening your mouth.

“Talk to me, love,” He said, pausing. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” You said.

“Should I stop?” He asked, pulling away, but you grabbed him.

“No, don’t,” you said. “It’s mostly pressure and pinching. It’s not bad. Please, don’t stop.”

He began to move again, as carefully as before, until you felt him hit the wall all the way inside. He stopped there for a moment, and lay his body over yours, braced on one of his forearms. His other hand caressed your face.

“Look at me,” He said softly, and you opened your eyes, staring at his beautiful green ones. “Still all right?”

You nodded and tilted your hips, encouraging him to thrust. He obliged, keeping a careful rhythm and holding your eye, letting the palm of his hand rest on your cheek as he did. It was so loving and tender and attentive that the tears came back, and this time you didn’t stop them.

Being stranded here was the best thing that could ever have happened to you. You have never felt more loved or needed or _free_. It was overwhelming in the best way.

“My love?” He asked, wiping the tears away with his thumb.

“I’m happy,” You said, sniffling. “I’m so happy.”

He smiled at you widely. “We’re just getting started, sweetheart. It gets so much better.”

His hips picked up speed, and you felt the wave building again. He kissed your eyes dry and buried his nose in your neck, inhaling and panting. You could feel him throbbing from inside and realized he was feeling the same wave as you. The sounds of his moans and grunts in your ear made the sensations even sweeter and more intense.

“I love you, Rantha,” you breathed.

He groaned loudly, and you felt a huge, repeating pulse inside as he released. He kept moving hard inside you, and your wave crashed into you as well. You both were moaning and crying out noisily, likely dislodging birds from the trees, but you didn’t care how loud you were being. You had never felt this good in all your life.

He collapsed next to you, breathing hard, and you gasped like a landed fish next to him. He turned to pull you against him, your back to his front, and lay his nose just behind your hair.

“You’re all right, love?” He asked breathlessly.

“I’m all right, yes,” You said, nuzzling against him. He pulled your blanket over both of you and ran his hand through your hair, kissing your shoulder.

“I was worried you wouldn’t accept me,” He admitted. “This is a dream for me.”

“I thought no one would ever want me,” You said, frowning with memory. “My mother’s friends’ daughters are all married and had borne children by my age. My family hid me away for fear of being publicly shamed by their crippled daughter. Part of me resented them for it, but another part was grateful. I didn’t want to see how men looked at me, with… disgust or loathing. I expected to be hiding alone in an attic my whole life.”

Rantha squeezed you tightly. “No more hiding,” he said. “My bride is beautiful. I’ll introduce you to all my friends, and they will see what a lovely thing you are.”

“How many friends do you have?” You asked nervously.

“A fair few,” He said with a smile. “Don’t worry, darling. They’ll love you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The next morning, the two of you began carting everything at his campsite back to the cabin. You often needed to take rests, as you had little endurance for such things yet, but he didn’t insist that shouldn’t help. Instead, he sat with you while you took your breaks and worked when you did, making you feel less self-conscious. It slowed the work, but it wasn’t an urgent task, and you enjoyed spending time with Rantha.

The next week, he took you to see his friend, Declan. One of his adopted daughters, Lymera, was in training to be a priestess and married you and Rantha on Declan’s farm with his whole extended family in attendance, humans and non-humans alike. Declan’s family then threw you and Rantha a wonderful wedding party, during most of which you cried happily. It was more than you ever hoped for.

They offered to let you stay the night, but the two of you insisted you’d rather spend your wedding night under your own roof. They sent you off with a cartload of presents and promises that you’d be back to see them often. They were the first friends you’d ever made and you’d hoped to be their friend for a long time.

Another month passed like no time at all. You couldn’t remember ever being happier in all your life. Rantha did indeed build a new bed, and you wasted no time in breaking it it. You couldn’t deny the man was good with his hands.

It left you envious, though. The ease in which he could do things as simple as tie a knot or swing an axe gave you a pang of regret. He often saw you watching him with a frown and would ask you what was the matter.

“Nothing,” you said one night as he was helping you get ready for bed.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me,” He said, braiding your hair.

“It’s just…” You sighed and turned to look at him, pulling your braid from his hands. “My family never let me do anything. I wanted to help, and they wouldn’t let me. So I never learned to do things like clean or cook.”

“Darling, it’s my job to care for you. I don’t mind doing anything you may not be able to do,” He said, confused.

“That’s not my point,” You said. “I don’t know what I may be able to do because they never let me try. I want to learn. Teach me. Let me try to do things. Teach me to fish, teach me to cook, teach me to make baskets and build boxes. If I try something and find that I can’t do it, let me move on and try something else, but at least let me try. I can learn. I don’t want to be a broken doll that you have to take care of; I want to have a hand in caring for myself. I want to be useful. Teach me.”

He sighed and smiled at you. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve fallen into the same trap of underestimated you as your family did. Forgive me.”

“At least you’re willing to admit it,” you said, kissing him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” He said, pulling you into his lap. “I should have known better.”

The next morning, he took you to the river and began to teach you to fish. It took some time, but after two days of patient instruction, you managed to pull in a catfish with no assistance from him. He celebrated the achievement more than you did. The two of you took your hauls back to the cabin, and he showed you how to scale and gut the fish. You had to adjust his method to doing it one-handed, but compared to the gore of the rabbits, you thought you did very well.

As time went on, you found there was very little that was outside of your ability. You could do most things either on your own or with Rantha’s minimal aid. You couldn’t do big things, like hunt or split wood or lift heavy objects, but Rantha insisted that’s what he was there for. He joked that if you suddenly found a way to do those things on your own, you wouldn’t need him anymore. You assured him that you’d still want him around because he was adorable, and that always made him smile.

Toward the end of summer, Rantha was invited by Declan’s boys to go on a hunting trip with them. Apparently this was a yearly thing and Rantha always went. He was going to turn them down, reluctant to leave you alone so soon after marrying, but you insisted he should go. Declan and Ryel had promised to look in on you while he was gone, and he had taught you many things in the time you’d been together. You were much more confident in your ability to care for yourself now than you had been that first day.

In the days leading up to the trip, the two of you made love for hours every night. It was more than the anticipation of being apart for a while; you were both struck with an inexplicable urge that couldn’t be denied. You wondered if minotaurs didn’t go into heats.

The hunting trip would be several weeks, and you would miss him dearly. Ryel or one of her daughters came by every other day to visit with you, so you weren’t as lonely, but you had grown used to Rantha’s warm body wrapped around you at night, so you were cold without him, even in the summer.

At least once a week, you’d go to the farm for tea with Ryel, Caeli, Yala, and Lymera. Soraya, Caeli’s mate and Ryel's oldest child, didn’t care for tea but would sit in all the same. Caeli and Soraya were newly married, like you and Rantha, so they were still at the touch-all-the-time stage. Caeli often didn’t bother with a chair and simply sat in Soraya’s lap.

Three days before the boys were due back, however, tea had been canceled when a young, owl-faced harpy had been dropped off at the farm, one of her wings heavily bandaged after a terrible attack by her family. Harpies, you learned, adhered to a rigid hierarchy within closed tribes. If the leader of a tribe perceived a threat to her authority, she would remove it, even if it was one of her own children. The young harpy was lucky to have escaped with her life.

You were there when the poor thing had arrived and stayed to help Ryel care for her. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, the same age you had been when your arm stopped working completely.

Sayo, as she was called, was combative and frightened, unfamiliar with her surroundings and lashing out. Yala, who had recently given birth, sequestered herself in the barn with her husband to protect the baby, leaving you, Soraya, Caeli, and Ryel to try and calm Sayo.

“Do you think she’ll be all right?” You asked Ryel that evening, sitting on the porch with her.

“I don’t know,” She said truthfully. “Harpies are an incredibly proud race. It can take a lot of time to recover from a disgrace like this. Not to mention the betrayal.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” You replied bitterly.

“I imagine so,” Ryel said delicately. “Rantha didn’t tell us much about where you came from, only that you were left at his cabin with nothing and were expected to starve. I wish I found it hard to believe that people could do something so cruel, but all of my children have similar stories, including the human ones. People love to call my babies monsters, but as the days pass, the more I’m convinced that humans are the real monsters.”

Your heart fluttered a little. “Ryel…” You said hesitantly. “I think I may be pregnant.”

Her eyebrows rose and her mouth fell open. “Have you told Rantha?”

“I didn’t figure it out until after he left, after listening to Yala describe her early pregnancy symptoms,” You replied.

“Well, if you’re worried about how Rantha will react, don’t be. He’ll be over the moon,” She said. “But I’m guessing that’s not what’s bothering you.”

“No,” You said. You scratched your useless arm absentmindedly. “I… Until I met Rantha, I thought I was good for nothing. I… understood why my parents decided to abandon me. It hurt but it made sense: I was a burden. They couldn’t do it anymore.”

Ryel listened quietly, not attempting to interrupt with the usual assurances but waiting for you to make your point.

“But since I met Rantha, I realized I can do so much, I was just never given a chance. But this… I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You won’t know until you try,” Ryel said. “And it’s not like you don’t have help.” She motioned at the house, where Caeli and Soraya were tending to Sayo, and the barn, where Yala and her husband, Reed, were putting their tiny cervitaur daughter to bed for the night. “We’re all here for you, darling.”

You felt the tears and scoffed at yourself. “I wish I didn’t cry so easily,” you said, wiping your eyes.

Ryel chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with tears, baby girl, especially if they're happy ones.”

Rantha and the boys returned a day early at around lunchtime, hauling carts full of furs and meat. You flung yourself at him from the porch and wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him. He squeezed you back tightly.

“I missed you, my love,” He said as he put you down.

“I missed you, too,” you replied.

Ryel greeted her husband with a kiss and had a short, quiet conversation. The large bat looked up at an upstairs window and went inside immediately. Ryel moved on to her returning sons, embracing them each in turn.

“There’s something I must discuss with you when we get home,” you told him in a low voice.

“Oh?” He said, helping the reptile man Cetzu unload some furs. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

“No, nothing bad,” You said with a nervous smile.

It took about an hour to divvy up the spoils, but you and Rantha went home with enough meat to last for months, if you dried and salted it properly, and several large pelts. Rantha insisted on making you a coat before winter fell.

You were coming up on the cabin and were about to broach the subject of the pregnancy when you spotted someone standing on the small porch. Beyond them was a carriage, brown and worn, with a groom sitting atop, tapping his foot impatiently.

You stopped dead in your tracks and began to hyperventilate. Rantha dropped what he was carrying and took your face in his hands, looking into your wide eyes with deep concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“ _It’s her…_ ” You squeaked. “ _She left me…_ ”

“Your mother?” You nodded. His nostrils flared in anger. “I’ll take care of this,” He said.

“No, wait,” You said, grabbing his arm. You took a shaky breath. “I… I want to talk to her. I want her to see that her plan didn’t work.”

“Are you sure? Should I come with you or stay here?”

Your brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe… stay here for the moment but…”

“Any sign that your in trouble, I’ll be right there, I promise,” he said. You gave him a grim smile and a kiss before stepping out of the late-afternoon shadow of the trees. It was only the feeling of his eyes on your back that kept your feet moving.

You knew you’d locked the door when you left, therefore you assumed your mother made a copy of the key. She was peering into the cabin from the front step, clearly looking for your corpse and was confused to find the cabin empty.

You stopped twenty feet away from the porch. “Mama,” You called in a soft voice.

Her posture changed immediately and she spun on her heel, her face white and shocked.

“My child,” she said weakly. “I’m… I’m so happy to see you.” She stepped down from the porch and opened her arms, as if to embrace you.

You took several steps back. “Don’t touch me.”

She stopped and let her arms fall.

“You seem surprised to see me, Mama,” You said, seething. “What were you expecting to find? It doesn't seem to be there. Did you get into trouble when you came back home and I didn't? Are people asking questions?”

“I…” She stammered. “You must understand, my dear. I am a woman with certain… responsibilities. Expectations.”

“Like loving your only child? Was that one of your responsibilities? Is it not expected of a parent to care for their offspring, regardless of their malady?”

Your mother sighed. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here to take you home.”

“You’re here to lock me back in the attic? No, thank you. I’d rather stay here.”

“Here?” She asked, laughing incredulously. “At this hovel? Certainly not. We’re going home.”

She reached out to grab your wrist, but you danced out of her reach. “No. I am home.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Your mother said more firmly. “You’re coming back to the city with me.”

“No, I’m not,” You said again. “I’m an adult and married. I don’t have to go anywhere with you.”

“Married?” She said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “ _You’re_ married? To whom?”

“The man who’s cabin you bought illegally,” You replied dryly, motioning at the cabin.

Your mother paled further, but she didn’t back down. “Stop this nonsense at once. You’re going home with me!”

“No, I’m not!” you insisted.

“Agh!” Your mother growled. “You’re always so difficult! Why must you make everything so difficult!”

“I’ve never made anything difficult!” You replied hotly. “Being crippled doesn’t automatically make me difficult! You decided that I was on your own! Besides, if you think I’m difficult now, just wait until the baby comes!”

“What nonsense are you speaking?”

“I’m pregnant!” You yelled at your mother. You heard a soft gasp from the trees, easily mistook for a light breeze in the leaves. You knew Rantha had heard you.

“Pregnant? _You?_ ” Your mother laughed at you disdainfully. “Now I know you’re being ridiculous.” She rushed forward and snatched your shrunken arm, pulling you roughly. “Let’s go! Now!”

“You’re hurting me!” You shrieked. “Let me go!”

A bellow like a bull sounded from the trees, and you turned in time to see the blur of Rantha run headfirst into the carriage, making it skid six feet away, sending the coachman flying. Your mother screamed and scrambled back onto the porch. Rantha was breathing heavily in anger, his nostrils blowing air forcefully. His fists were balled and the muscles in his arms were taut and as firm as steel. He eyed both the groom and your mother, daring them to challenge him.

“Are you all right?” You asked, going to him and checking his head for injury.

“Are you?” He asked, his anger ebbing as he wrapped you up in his arms. “Did she hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine,” burying your face in his neck.

“A baby?” He whispered, naked joy in his voice. “Are you really pregnant?”

“Yes, I am,” You said. “I wanted to tell you when we were alone. I wanted it to be special. She ruined it.”

“Shh,” He said, covering your face in kisses. “Forget her. She can’t ruin it if we don’t let her. This is ours.”

“This?” Your mother shrieked. “This… _thing_ is your husband?”

“Don’t call him that,” you snarled. “He loves me more than you ever have.”  

“You’re mad, girl,” your mother snapped. “If this abomination really impregnated you, well, there are ways of dealing with it. But if your willing to breed with monsters, it’s obvious you can’t be left on your own.”

“Who did that, Mother?” You shouted, your face getting red. “Who left me on my own? If you don’t like this arrangement, you only have yourself to blame!”

“You’re really going to have that beast’s child?” She asked belligerently. “What if it comes out like him? What if it comes out like _you_? What will you do then?”

“Then I’d _love_ them!” You shrieked back at her, shoving her shoulder. “I’d _love_ them like _you_ should have loved _me_! I’d love them like they were the only thing in this world that deserved it, because that’s what you do for your children! You love them no matter what they are or what they can do for you! You love them because their your _family_!”

You beat her back with every emphasized word, crying your eyes out and gasping for breath between shouting. You wished you could stop yourself from weeping, but the years of resentment and solitude and loneliness had finally come boiling to the surface, and nothing could stop it now. Rantha waited, letting you work through your grief but ready in case he needed to intervene.

“Darling, be reasonable!” You mother pleaded as she tried to block your onslaught.

“I am being reasonable!” You yelled back. “There’s nothing unreasonable about wanting to be loved and accepted for who you are! There’s nothing unreasonable about being angry at the person who left you to die! You wanted me to die! How could you?! How dare you?!”

“You should leave now,” Rantha said, his voice deepening to a timbre that shook the bones of your ribcage. He stood at his full, impressive height and bore down on your mother, who yelped and ran for the shelter of the carriage. The horseman snapped the reins and the carriage took off.

“And don’t come back!” You yelled after them, picking up a stone from the grass and hurling it at the retreating carriage. Once it was out of sight, you fell to the ground and sobbed, overwhelmed.

Rantha sat so that you were between his knees and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Hush, my love,” He breathed. “Hush. She’s gone. She’ll never come back. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re not going to kill her, are you?” You asked him, gulping and alarmed.

He chuckled. “No, sweetheart. But I have my ways. Don’t worry about her anymore. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m here. It’s time to look to the future.” His large hand planted itself on your belly. “I’m so excited. I have to get started on an extension on the cabin for the little one, and you’re definitely going to need that coat.”

You laughed through your tears. “I never thought I’d be able to stand up to her.”

“I knew you could. You’re a force of nature. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

“You were trying to get me pregnant, weren’t you?” you accused. “That’s why you couldn’t keep your hands off me before you left.”

“This is a bonus, to be sure,” He said, laughing. “But really, I knew I would miss you. I wanted to be as close to you as I could until I left. I love you. I thought of you the whole time. The hunt was fun, but all I could think about was coming home.”

You tilted your head up and kissed him.

Ranji was born on the first warm day of spring the following year. In that time, Rantha built not only an extra room for his son, but a larger bedroom for the two of you and bigger kitchen. He’d also made good on his promise to make you a fur coat, as well as making a crib for his much loved little boy. He was a doting, attentive father, everything you’d wanted in a parent, and thought you loved the relationship he had with his son, it was another thing that left you feeling just the slightest bit jealous about your own childhood.

Your mother had not returned. When the baby was a month old, Rantha left you and him at Declan farm and taken a secret trip for a few days, returning with news that you were free and no one would ever come nosing around for you ever again. You thought it best not to ask too many questions.

One mild day, as summer reached it’s height, you finished up the evening dishes and walked in to your bedroom to find Rantha asleep with against the headboard of the bed with Ranji on his shoulder, holding him in a iron grip, despite being unconscious.

You smiled softly at the two of them, going to sit on the bed and admire the sight. As the pressure on the bed shifted, Rantha snorted awake and looked at you blearily.

“Did I fall asleep?” He asked groggily. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s all right,” You said, picking up Ranji one-armed. You’d gotten pretty good at doing that; he didn’t even wake up. You took him to his crib and lay him down in it, kissing his brow before straightening up.

Rantha came up behind you and stared down at his son, sleeping sweetly. His arm went around your waist and you leaned into his embrace.

“I’m going to have to build a proper house, like Declan’s got,” Rantha said. “I want just as many children as he has.”

“Have mercy on my poor body!” You exclaimed in protest. “Let’s try one more and see how we feel after that.”

“Really?” He said excitedly. “We can try for another one? Do you mean it? Can we start now?”

You rolled your eyes. “I guess so,” You sighed as he pulled you to the bed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself though, I said _one more_.”

He laughed and snatched you up, like he had done on the first night, and set you in the bed with a kiss.


End file.
